


New Boys on the Block

by GeneratorCat



Series: JayTim Week 2017- Summer Edition [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fake Marriage, Jason is a tease, M/M, Sharing a Bed, going undercover in the suburbs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneratorCat/pseuds/GeneratorCat
Summary: “You make me sound so spoiled,” Tim complains, shoving Jason away.“Hey, what will the neighbors think, huh? You pushing me like that.”Tim glances to the house two doors down and, sure enough, there is a woman peeking through her curtains, watching them. “Well,” Tim says, “I can fix it.”He turns and wraps a hand around the back of Jason’s neck, tugs him down, and kisses him softly.It’s not bad, for a first kiss.Not bad at all.





	New Boys on the Block

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TaneKore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaneKore/gifts), [cinnamon_skull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_skull/gifts), [Ladelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladelle/gifts), [Sister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sister/gifts), [Master_of_the_Rebels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_of_the_Rebels/gifts).



> For JayTim week, day one: heatwave

Tim stands in front of a charming blue house. This is the first time he’s seen it in person, and he has to admit that it’s even cuter than he thought it would be. The pictures the real estate agent had sent didn’t quite do it justice. 

A hand lands on his hip and Jason settles against Tim’s side. “Anything wrong?”

“No, just looking at our new place.” At the creamy white front door and the rose bushes planted under the front windows. The thick, green grass. “I like it.”

“Hm. I thought you might think it was too small.”

“There’s only two of us, why would we need anything bigger?” The house is little, but not  _ tiny _ . It’s a two bedroom, one and a half bath, with a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Enough space for what they need.

Jason shrugs. “You’re used to living in big, fancy places.”

“You make me sound so spoiled,” Tim complains, shoving Jason away. 

“Hey, what will the neighbors think, huh? You pushing me like that.”

Tim glances to the house two doors down and, sure enough, there is a woman peeking through her curtains, watching them. “Well,” Tim says, “I can fix it.”

He turns and wraps a hand around the back of Jason’s neck, tugs him down, and kisses him softly. 

It’s not bad, for a first kiss. 

Not bad at all. 

Jason raises an eyebrow and grins. “If that’s how you fix it, I’ll have to make you mad at me more often.”

Tim rolls his eyes. He lifts his face to take in the early morning sun, slowly climbing a mostly clear sky. They’re far enough away from Gotham City for the sky to actually be blue. “Come on, let’s get unloading. I want to get most of the stuff moved in before it gets too hot out here.” 

Jason gives him a light pat on the butt and heads for the U-Haul. “Whatever you say, honey boo.”

~

They’re carrying the couch in when the woman finally stops watching from her kitchen window and comes outside to introduce herself. 

“I’m Grace Morgan,” she says sweetly, eyeing Jason hungrily. She practically swoons when he grins back and kisses her hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Grace. I’m Jason.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Tim mumbles. 

“And this is my husband, Tim.”

“Oh! Husband,” Grace echos thoughtfully, as if she didn’t already know. Then she turns a brilliant smile on Tim. “That’s just wonderful. So glad to have you in the neighborhood.”

Tim jerks his head toward their new house. “Thanks, if you don’t mind we’ll take this in real quick.” He means the couch. The one they’ve been holding, halfway up the walkway. He thinks Grace timed it so she could get a close-up of Jason’s muscles. His arms, shiny with a bit of sweat. The way his t-shirt pulls tight over his shoulders. 

Tim can’t really blame her. 

“Of course!” Grace walks alongside as they head for the house and points to the  _ for sale _ sign on the lawn, where the real estate agent smiles back at them. “Patricia told me our new neighbors would be moving in today and I just had to come say hello. You know, this is such a darling house. I’m happy to see it finally get sold. I was wondering why you didn’t have any moving men doing this for you, but I suppose you really don’t need the help,” she says as Jason and Tim finagle the couch through the doorway.

“Please, come in,” Tim says dryly as he drops his end of the couch. Jason positions it where he wants it, right under the wide window on the far wall. Tim will move it later. 

Jason nods, satisfied, and turns to Grace. “No, I’m a firm believer in doing the dirty work myself.”

Grace makes a small noise. “Dirty work, yes. You look like quite the handyman.”

“Oh yeah, I love working with my hands.” 

Tim inspects the pattern carved into the front door just so he can hide his eye-roll. And how he bites his lip. “We have a lot more to bring in, we should get back to it,” he suggests, turning back around.

Grace is fanning herself. “Right, yes. I’ll let you boys work. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” Jason says warmly. Then he takes off his shirt. He winks. “It’s a hot one out today.”

~

“She seems nice,” Jason says after Grace Morgan trips her way out the door. 

“She’s a drug dealer, Jason.” 

“Yeah, well. A perky drug dealer.”

Tim snorts and finds the air conditioning control panel to turn it on. They should have done that first thing. “How much do you wanna bet she comes back in twenty minutes with lemonade?”

“Hour and a half,” Jason corrects. “She needs time to bake brownies.”

~

It takes only thirty minutes, but the brownies are pre-packaged. 

Grace drools a little when Jason bites into his brownie with a happy groan. 

(Tim might be drooling too.)

~

It takes three hours to unload the truck. They don’t have that much stuff but they have to work around interruptions (Grace). As soon as it’s empty Jason takes the truck back to the U-Haul rental and Tim follows in the used Carolla Jason had bought for them, because while Tim’s car is awesome, Red Bird is perhaps too awesome for the image they’re trying to project. They need something plain and sensible. 

The Carolla doesn’t go  _ vroom _ . It makes Tim sad. 

Back at the house they’re faced with rooms full of boxes to unpack. 

“Where should we start?”

“I’ll do the bathrooms, you take the kitchen,” Jason decides. “Get the important stuff set up. Then we can put together the bed.”

The kitchen accounts for nearly half the square footage of the house. It, the laundry room, and the full bath make up the back half of the house, and were added on some time in the seventies, Tim guesses from the cabinetry and wallpaper. The original section of the house was built in 1920, when most homes didn’t have a dedicated kitchen. Or indoor restrooms; the half bath is squeezed in between the two tiny bedrooms, obviously not a part of the original design. 

Tim steps into the kitchen- steps down, actually, because the add-on is a whole eight inches lower- and looks through the boxes to find what they might need in the next twenty-four hours. Microwave, plates and silverware, canned soup. They’ll need to go grocery shopping soon. 

Grocery shopping. With Jason. 

Wild. 

~

“I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“It’s fine, just ease it in nice and slow.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that. That’s good.”

Tim pushes, and gasps. “Oh wow. I really didn’t think that was gonna go in.”

“You gotta learn to trust me, babe,” Jason says. “Now help me get this into position.”

Tim lifts the mattress standing on its side and he and Jason turn it over and slide into place on the bed frame. It takes up most the the space in the front bedroom; there’s barely enough room to walk between the bed and the wall. 

Jason asks, “Do you remember which box has the sheets?”

“I think I saw it in the dining room. It’s the one that says ‘bed stuff’ on the side.”

“‘Bed stuff’?”

“What, you need the proper terminology? It’s stuff that goes on the bed, Jason, I was sure you could figure it out.”

Jason squeezes past Tim to get out of the room- their room. Their bedroom. 

Tim holds his breath, makes himself be very still as Jason passes.

Jason walks out, mumbling something about “fucking linens”.

“And put on a shirt!” Tim yells after him. 

~

They order a pizza and eat it sitting on the floor in the living room, backs propped against the couch. 

“I think I can get Grace to invite me to hang out with the group,” Jason says, picking pepperoni off his slice.

“You could get Grace to do a lot of things,” Tim mutters. 

“What was that?”

“I said maybe I should be the one to get in with them.” Tim takes the castaway pepperoni. “They’ll be more infatuated with you- if Grace is any indication. I can get friendly, be one of the girls, and you’ll charm them with. You know.”

Jason nods. “My rugged good looks.”

“You have sauce on your chin. I think I can convince them to open up to me.”

“No offense, bae, but you don’t exactly scream,  _ let me into your drug ring _ .”

“But that’s perfect,” Tim insists. “None of the women involved really seem the type, at least on the surface. They’re bored suburban housewives looking for a thrill. I’ll make them think I’m the same.”

“Why would they believe that,” Jason asks, his voice gone low, “when you’re married to someone like me?”

He’s leaning in close and staring into Tim’s eyes, and Tim kind of wants to kiss him and really wants to punch him. 

“You stink,” he says. 

Jason sits back, laughing. “So do you, darling.”

“You’ve gotta stop with the nicknames,” Tim begs for his own sanity. “At least when we’re alone, it’s not necessary.”

“It’s good to get into the habit. Besides, you never know when someone might be listening.”

Tim sighs. “Fine,  _ buttercup _ .”

“That’s better.” Jason gives a satisfied nod. 


End file.
